


be still my foolish heart

by acrobaticblood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Fluff and Smut, I forgot how to tag, M/M, Secret Relationship, mentions of rimming, they swap their ties accidentally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrobaticblood/pseuds/acrobaticblood
Summary: Harry and Draco have been fooling around Hogwarts corridors for months now and no one knows about it. Harry's kind of ready for his friends to find out he's been shagging the man of his dreams, though. Draco? Well, not so much.What happens when they accidentally switch their ties? Is their relationship finally going to be exposed, or are they going to manage to keep it hidden? Who knows? Harry sure doesn't.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 30
Kudos: 450





	1. Chapter 1

“I’ll see you tonight, yes?” Harry asks, pressing wet splotchy kisses on the stretch of pale milky skin of Draco’s neck.

They’ve only just come down from a miraculous orgasm and Harry is perfectly aware that he’s using Draco’s pliant and affectionate state in the aftermath of it all to persuade him to come to the rejoicing at the Gryffindor common room tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s okay with some gentle manipulation if it means he’ll get what he wants finally.

He wants for them to stop sneaking around of course.

It’s been great fun at the beginning, what with the breathless groping in the abandoned dark corridors and the endless rutting in the library’s forbidden section (All of the Golden trio had gotten a pass to visit it freely from McGonagall back in September. Turns out defeating your generation’s darkest wizard had some advantages after all. Not that he used the pass for any actual reading. _Oh no_. All he did was snog Draco sodding Malfoy in there. But at least he’s not like Ron. He lost his pass the day after he got it. Actually, Harry’s pretty sure Hermione’s the only one that’s been using it for _reading_. Not that she hadn’t been eating up knowledge from forbidden literature before. She just finally isn’t under the fear of getting detention for it), but it’s getting harder and harder to keep this relationship thing away from his friends. There’s only so many valid excuses he can come up with.

Harry shakes the thoughts away and focuses on the task of getting Draco Malfoy to finally attend a social gathering (if one of Gryffindorian excuses for getting pissed out of your mind could be called that) with him. As boyfriends. Or whatever. Harry cringes a bit at the wording, his mouth still latched onto the side of Draco’s extended neck. He’s so warm, so soft. Nothing like he was only fifteen minutes ago, before Harry strip him of his clothing and fucking him from the back into the old table in the long unused Charms classroom. Are they boyfriends though? Is that what this is? Harry’s not sure. He’s never had a boyfriend before. Him and Ginny were… well, different. It wasn’t anything like this. He’s never felt this ravenous about Ginny. Like he had to have her right at the spot; to touch and hold onto whatever part of her he could get.

Stop. Stop thinking about Ginny. Jesus.

What was he on about anyway? Ah, yes. Boyfriends. Are they? He’s not sure Draco thinks so. He certainly isn’t ready for other people to assume so. That’s the only logical reason Harry can come up with, as to why Draco refuses to go to Honeydukes with him. Or to study together in the Great hall. Or to go flying with Harry on the weekends. It’s not like he’s asking him to hold hands and furiously make out in front of their friends.

“Did you hear me?” Harry asks again, when Draco makes no effort to answer his question. “Draco?”

“First of all,” Draco begins, placing both of his hands on Harry’s chest to make some distance between them. “Don’t _Draco_ me. And second, if the remains of your visual ability don’t decide to mysteriously dissipate, I’m sure you’ll be able to see me fine.”

Harry really doesn’t know what he means by the “Don’t Draco me”. As if Harry’s been doing anything other than that. He’s been calling him by the first name for weeks now. It didn’t really feel right to stay at the ‘Malfoy’ basis after he’s had so many things up the blonde’s ass.

Yes. Harry’s had multiple things up there. Let’s not count. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Harry says, trying to make it come out all stern, but instead landing on gloomy and disappointed.

Draco doesn’t respond. He’s sitting on top of the desk still, his lanky legs dangling from it. He has his thinking face on. It’s the one that’s slightly pouty, with scrunched up white eyebrows and gentle creases between them. Harry want to straighten them with his thumb. He kisses Draco’s forehead instead.

“So, will you see me tonight? Eight o’clock?” Harry pokes again with a lazy smirk, pulling his pants back on and buckling his belt.

“If you’re implying that we’ll be attending the event at the-“

“It’s just a party, you git. Don’t go making it sound all fancy and posh now.”

“ _If you’re implying that we’ll be attending the Gryffindor event together_ ,” Draco repeats louder and more serious, “Then no.”

Harry frowns. He should’ve seen it coming. He’s not been able to coax him into anything like this before, so why would today be any different? He tries one more time though, just because he’s a tireless bastard.

“Not even if I eat your ass until you come afterwards?” He tilts his head to side a little, hoping his eyes are glinting with the promise of something dirty to come. He’s got his fingers busy with buttoning up his shirt, but it feels like he’s taking it off. “Remember last Sunday?” He adds, recalling the day he and Draco spent at Harry’s dorm, with all of its other occupiers gone to Hogsmeade. Harry had him spread out on the sheets, writhing and shaking. If he remembers correctly (and he does) he made Draco come five times that afternoon. He gets hard only thinking about it.

Draco’s eyes widen at the mention of the unholy acts he _oh so eagerly_ participated in, his nostrils flaring and he’s probably about to lash out, but then Harry throws an accidental glance at the big grandfather clock on the wall behind Draco’s head and squeaks.

“Jesus! Transfiguration started five minutes ago!” He says, looking around for his bag and glasses in a rush.

It’s hard to find anything without his frames, but he manages to locate his tie and bag eventually, jerking when a hand lands on his forearm.

Draco’s gotten down from the table, pants back on his skinny legs neatly like no undressing had been happening before. Apparently he’s holding Harry’s glasses. He puts them on tenderly on Harry’s nose, tucking a curly strand of hair behind Harry’s ear and kissing his cheek sheepishly. It’s a gesture so tender and so real, Harry’s heart leaps. He almost can’t believe that this is the man that had been screaming for Harry to “push his big cock in deeper” literally minutes ago. Harry smiles.

“Please come tonight,” He says, kissing Draco’s forehead again. He doesn’t know how to stop.

“Get out, Harry,” Draco says softly.

“I am,” Harry says, moving backwards to the door, “I’ll wait for you tonight, though.”

He leaves the Charms classroom with a dumb smile on his face, thinking about how that last soft whisper Draco sent his way felt dangerously promising. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but tonight might just be the night it finally happens. The world might just find out Harry Potter has a boyfriend. Yes. That’s what they are. He knows it. Something tells him Draco knows it too.

He fiddles with his tie for a bit, blindly trying to get it into place as neatly as possible and when it’s done, he sprints down the corridor, hoping that McGonagall won’t kill him for being late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the impatiently anticipated (by like two people) second chapter!!  
> enjoy!!

He finally sees it when he catches his reflection in the mirror of the second floor’s loo.

“Why did no one tell me I was walking around in a bloody Slytherin tie all day?” He practically cries out once he’s stepped out of it, like his friends are to blame for the mismatched tie.

Ron starts stuttering and glancing everywhere but at Harry, looking guilty and brutally pained for some unknown reason. “We didn’t really – mmm – we didn’t really know what to say, mate,” He says unsurely. It can’t be Harry’s tie that’s causing him this much discomfort.

“Or rather how,” Hermione adds. This conversation is getting more and more awkward by the second and still all Harry can think about is whether him wearing Draco’s tie means that Draco is somewhere out there walking around in a Gryffindor tie. In _Harry’s_ red Gryffindor tie.

“See, Harry, Ron here has a theory that you’re…” Hermione stops to clear her throat loudly, “… _shagging_ a Slytherin bloke. Or something of such sorts if I’m correct.”

She turns to look at Ron and he nods slowly.

Hearing those words come out of Hermione’s mouth makes Harry burst out laughing. He puts one hand on his sternum, right where the sloppy knot of what he’s only recently found out is not his tie ends and tries to calm his breath.

“See! I told you! There’s no way Harry would be involved with someone… _anyone_ without telling us about it first,” Hermione says sternly, addressing Ron. But Ron’s face is still grimacing.

“Oh no, I _am_ shagging a Slytherin bloke,” Harry interrupts, stating the obvious. “It’s just incredibly amusing hearing those words come out of your mouth, Hermione.”

Hermione seems to have not really registered what Harry had just confessed to, but is rather more devoted to punching Harry’s bicep roughly, saying “Just because I’m a girl, it doesn’t mean–“

“You are?” Ron asks in a surprising tone, his eyes widening. “So I was right!” He makes a fist and a short hissing sound, looking somewhere down the corridor when he mumbles to himself. “Seamus owes me twenty.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Hermione says scornfully. “Who is he?”

Harry looks down for a second and then to the side, thinking if exposing him and Draco like this is actually a good idea. Even though he feels that he’s close to getting Draco to go out with him in public after this morning’s shenanigans, he’s still not sure if Draco would say yes to _this_. Maybe they should have a proper talk about it first. Harry’s already tried that, of course, but maybe this time Draco will actually listen.

“You’re not going to tell us, are you?” Hermione implicates in Harry’s silence. She’s always been able to read him. Most days even before he can read himself.

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her thoughtfully and then at Ron, who’s still worked up and jittery.

“Just tell me it’s not Goyle,” Ron says.

Harry laughs at the thought of him and Gregory Goyle getting up to any activity other than cleaning the dusty Potion’s cupboard (they had to do that last week and Goyle kept purposely stepping on Harry’s foot). Then again, Harry used to laugh at him and Draco getting up to any sort of business together and look at them now. Insatiable and mad with each other.

“It’s not him, don’t worry,” Harry promises.

He has a feeling that the bloke he’s actually shagging will come as more of a shock to Ron and Hermione than Goyle ever could.

-

He doesn’t take the tie off not even when the so called party at the Gryffindor common room begins.

He realizes now why everyone’s been looking at him weirdly all day. He was sure people were staring at him more than the usual amount, but he just brushed it off as being paranoid. Dean even asked him “if he was finally getting some” and now Harry can finally understands why.

It’s the bloody tie.

He really ought to take it off, he probably looks stupid and overly cocky, but he doesn’t want to make this feeling of belonging to someone disappear just yet. It’s good. Even if no one knows to whom his heart belongs to (stop being so sappy, Jesus), they now that he is taken. It’s good. He only wishes Draco was as enthusiastic about belonging to Harry. Maybe he’s just not ready for commitment. Maybe he wants to keep his options open, find someone to fuck him better (highly impossible, Harry fucks him best, Draco admitted so on one occasion even).

Then what is it?

Jesus. He’ll drive himself mad with thinking about this. He needs a drink.

He moves from where he’s leaning against the wall and squeezes through a mass of people until he’s at the center of the room where several armchairs and a low wooden table are placed. He plops down onto one of the empty armchairs, pouring himself some Butterbeer and swallowing down a heavy gulp of it. It feels refreshing and cold on his throat and just as he takes one more sip and reaches to place the glass back on the table, Seamus shows up. He sits one of the armchairs opposite of Harry, his eyes glinting in the mostly dim room, like he’s already had too much to drink.

“So…” He starts, dragging out the word unnecessarily long, “I hear you’ve been up to some funny business with some lucky Slytherin.” He makes a quick uncoordinated gesture with his hand, and Harry assumes he’s pointing at the tie.

“Who’d you hear that from?” Harry asks, even though he already knows Ron had to pay Seamus for losing in a certain bet on Harry’s love life they had going.

“Oh, you know…” Seamus sighs drunkenly. “Around and… about.”

He starts chuckling like Harry’s just told him the funniest joke in the world. When he finally calms down, he places his forearms onto his thighs, leaning forward toward Harry. “Is he here right now?” He asks in a whisper.

Harry debates messing around with poor wasted Seamus, but then decides against it. Being honest won’t hurt anybody right now. Seamus probably won’t even remember talking to Harry. “No. He’s not here right now,” he says.

“Is that why you look all gloomy? Do you miss your booooooyfriend?“ Shemus mocks him.

“I don’t look–“ Harry begins, but then completely loses his train of thought when the door to the common room opens and three people start stepping inside.

First comes Blaise Zabini with his golden shirt, unbuttoned almost all the way and that smirk that never seems to get off of his gorgeous face. After him comes Pansy Parkinson and she’s equally as stunning, wearing a two piece maroon colored suit, with nothing but a lacey bra underneath.

However, the last person to come in is the one that takes away all of Harry’s words and ends his conversation with Seamus.

It’s Draco.

He’s face is glowing even through the darkness and heavy smoke that’s wrapped itself around the room, his eyes even grayer than it probably and not half as suffocating, but rather sharp and clear. Harry can’t see right from where he’s seated, but he’s pretty sure there’s even some glossy electric blue eyeshadow on his lids.

He does that sometimes. It drives Harry mad.

It’s not the eyeshadow that destroys Harry today, however, and nor are the velvety lips, constantly brushed by Draco’s pink tongue, or those white cheekbones that could kill a man.

It’s the tie. He’s wearing Harry’s tie.

It’s loose and almost completely undone, dangling over his unbuttoned chest and Harry has to grip the armrest not to jump up and onto Draco.

“You’re fucking Draco Malfoy?” Someone practically yells from behind Harry and shakes him out of his fantasy about devouring Draco on the spot. He turns around automatically, realizing it’s none other than Ron, that’s yelled the accusation in such disbelief.

Harry doesn’t say anything to him, though. Instead, he brings his attention back onto Draco, hoping that Ron’s outburst hadn’t made him withdraw. To Harry’s utter joy, it hasn’t. Draco’s still there. In fact, he’s walking in what looks to be Harry’s direction.

Everything stills for those couple of seconds it gets Draco to come to him. It seems that everybody in the room has stopped speaking. Harry holds his breath.

“Hi,” Draco says simply once he’s in front of Harry.

“Hi,” Harry echoes mesmerized, slowly reaching out to touch Draco’s pinky finger with his own, just to have some of that skin against his. It’s warm. It’s almost never this warm.

“We switched ties–“ Draco begins bashfully, as if Harry’s not aware of the fact. When Harry nods knowingly, Draco continues “And I… I realized I didn’t mind,” He says.

Harry almost squeaks with joy and he probably would if he had any more time to react, but then Draco sits on his lap, tucking himself into the cradle of Harry’s arms, moving them around himself, like they’ve been doing this for eons. He smells of that citrus shampoo he loves and of chocolate pudding they had for desert. He probably tastes like it too.

He realizes that he doesn’t have to wonder, so he just grabs Draco’s chin, bringing his head up up up until their lips meet and… _yes_. He tastes like chocolate pudding. And like safety and comfort and something else too. Something Harry’s a little bit afraid naming. Something that feels too big for his chest, too precious to hold.

He’s okay with leaving it nameless at the moment though. He’s quite certain it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

He can hear the chatter of people come back, the wireless kick in, the party continue, like no one cares. And no one cares. It’s good. It’s good having Draco like this, on his lap, in front of all of his friends. He’s good. They’ll be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked this little story and if you did leave a kudo and a comment!! :)

**Author's Note:**

> chapter 2 coming soon!   
> tnx for reading!  
> pls leave kudos and comments if possible! :)


End file.
